


Miso Soup Everyday

by KuriQuinn



Series: SasuSakuFestival2017 [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Blank Period, F/M, Family, Forgiveness, Insecurity, Memories, Nostalgia, Prompt: Insecurity, Redemption, Role Reversal, Romance, Sakura has no time for your crap, The time Sasuke was a real boy with feelings and everything, When words aren't enough, coming home, okay sometimes they're enough, ssfest17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriQuinn/pseuds/KuriQuinn
Summary: This is supposed to be a certainty – the one sure thing in his entire life. Yet he can't fight the same mounting apprehension he experiences when crossing into a dimension he's never visited before. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 2 – Prompt: "Insecurity"]





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be incinerated by a giant fireball should you be found plagiarizing.**   
>  **Warning: Spoilersfor pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.**   
>  **Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during the Blank Period.**   
>  **Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.**   
>  **Beta Reader:[Sakura's Unicorn](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2143802/Sakura-s-Unicornsakura%20sasuke%20chapter%20699)**

 

Honestly, it’s a bit of a role reversal.

When they were children, Sasuke was the aloof one – cool and confident, perpetually at ease in his role as the storied prodigy of Konoha. He was the genius of Team Seven, overshadowing Sakura’s presence as if she was no more than an afterthought. Between his rivalry with Naruto and the attention Kakashi lavished upon him, it was all too easy to consider Sakura as a barely requisite third wheel. Insecure and needy, she trailed after him like a puppy.

That’s no longer true.

These days, it’s Naruto and Sakura that are beacons of hope in the community, the heroes that little children crowd excitedly around when they walk through the streets. Sasuke is the one people don’t think of – or rather, prefer not to think of. The third wheel of the new generation of Sannin, whose reputation is maintained only by his connection to the other two.

He might’ve helped to save the planet, but it’s Sakura’s name that opens doors.

And if that doesn’t work, her fist splinters them.

Since returning to Konoha, Sasuke has noticed the whispers and stares that follow them when they walk together. Initially, he thought the behaviour was directed at him – judgement on his past deeds and the dark legacy that will hound him until he dies – except the general tone of the whispers is usually deferential. He knows from years of wandering that people are more likely to avert their eyes than risk his attention. Thus, it’s Sakura to whom they look; it’s she who holds the admiration of every inhabitant of the growing city.

What’s surprising about it, though, is how much he doesn’t mind. As a child, the idea of being second to anyone was unacceptable, especially in comparison to his teammates. Naruto because he was the village screw-up and Sakura because – back then – she was just support. An admirer to cheer on his successes and, in the early days of their team, to highlight just how much Naruto was beneath both their skill level.

It’s all different now.

Sakura is the one who stayed here, working hard to earn the respect and awe of the village. These days she walks confidently in the sun, while Sasuke is content to watch her from the shadows.

It’s actually ironic.

In three short years, a civilian-born girl with no bloodline talent to speak of has achieved more widespread respect than the Uchiha clan did in three generations. He wonders – especially today – what his parents would’ve made of Sakura. He likes to think they would have approved.

Father would’ve been terse and silent, but even he wouldn’t be able to deny her incredible talent. Mother would warm to her instantly, because her temperament was rather similar. And his brother…

Sasuke can’t help a rueful, bitter smile at this. Itachi would’ve probably figured out Sasuke’s feelings for her before Sasuke himself did.

He’s aware enough of his shortcomings these days that the admission comes easily. He understands that he’s cared for Sakura since their Academy days—lack of natural talent aside, she intrigued him, even if he didn’t show it. Humans are visual creatures, and her hair alone meant he couldn’t pretend she didn’t exist the way he could with other kids. On top of that, she was intelligent enough to beat him on every written test, though she never sought to compete with him.

This, too, is ironic. Perhaps if she had approached him as a potential rival, he would’ve seen her value earlier on.

Instead, his childhood memories of Sakura are of a pretty, shallow, yet kind girl trailing behind him. Even then, she had a remarkable tenacity and dedication, bringing him Valentine’s Day gifts every year and patiently enduring his constant rebuffs. Sasuke didn’t even realise until much later – until that last fight with Naruto – that with every passing year, another chunk of his heart fell into her waiting palm.

Knowing that should make all of this easier, but it doesn’t.

He’s had nightmares since the end of the war; dreams which take up the space in his head where revenge was once so prominent. Most often, they are of that day long ago when he almost snuffed out her life. Sometimes, Sasuke still feels the phantom heat of the electricity in his palms, can still see her back bared to him as he moves closer…

He knows now that if he’d landed that blow, he wouldn’t have survived the war.

As mad with grief and rage as he was, having Sakura’s blood on his hands would’ve shattered his already damaged psyche beyond repair. Losing his brother coupled with the truths about Itachi’s life had thrown him off the deep end; responsibility for Sakura’s death would have kept Sasuke there.

He doubts she realises this, even though they’ve spent more time together since his return—partaking in quiet dinners, long walks when her schedule allows for it, or the rare sparring match that leaves him bruised but proud. She doesn’t ask him why he’s around so often, or allude in any way how she feels for him.

 _If_ she still feels for him.

She as good as told him in her letters that she was tired of waiting. Likely, it’s too late for anything, regardless of his belated hopes. And yet despite this, Sasuke has been vacillating about the matter since he came back to Konoha.

Until today.

At least he hopes.

It’s become habit to pass by the clinic to pick Sakura up after work. She falls into step with him with more ease than she ever did when they were young.

Sometimes, they just meander through the town while she chats about her day. Sometimes, they find an out-of-the-way restaurant to get a bite to eat. Sometimes, he just walks her home.  

Today, though, he leads them along the river toward the lake. They’ve walked this way before, but he’s never led her down the embankment. She doesn’t ask where they’re going which he takes as encouragement.

The dock where he spent so much time alone as a child looks almost exactly as it did then. The wood is slightly warped, causing it to tilt downward toward the lake somewhat, but it’s still sturdy. There are burn marks on the edges from lessons long ago. He stares at them for a while, allowing memories to take him out of the present for a few moments. Beside him, Sakura is still as well, but it’s a comfortable quiet.

Now that they are older, she is more intuitive about his reticence.

As children, she would talk his ear off as if terminally afraid of a drawn-out silence, filling it by any means. While sometimes he appreciated this because it saved him the effort of having to maintain a conversation (especially when they were around other people), most of the time, he just wanted her to leave him to brood in peace.

These days, whether it’s because of her own experiences in the war or her work with those who have suffered its effects, she knows exactly when to just linger quietly. And, as usual, he appreciates her waiting for him to open the conversation.

It takes a little more effort today to find a way to start.

“This where I learned to perform _Katon_ ,” he tells her finally, his voice even despite the way his stomach spasms with nerves.

“Oh?” she inquires and, out of the corner of his eye, he sees her look up at him, surprise and curiosity passing across her features. He seldom, if ever, talks about the past; even more rarely does he speak of the time before they were genin.

Sasuke nods, staring out across the calm waters.

“My father taught me. It was the only thing he was able to show me before he…died.”  

Even so many years later, the pain is still as raw as it was the day of the massacre. The blinding rage is gone now, however. When he notices small, strong fingers tentatively wrap around his right hand and give a brief, reassuring squeeze, his instinct is to return the gesture instead of pulling away.

“The technique was created by the Uchiha clan,” he goes on, sticking to facts because this is what he knows for sure. Facts are unchangeable, not hinging on chance and sentiment. “My family honed it over the years and even though others have learned to master it, they could never achieve the exact effect that we could.”

He perceives her nod at this, but senses confusion at why he is bringing this up right now. She won’t ask, though, intuitively accepting that he has some purpose. Not for the first time does he think she trusts him far too much than he deserves – far more than he even trusts himself.

But today there is a purpose, and if he could just ignore the nagging doubts at the back of his mind, he might be able to get to it. This is supposed to be a certainty – the one sure thing in his entire life. Yet he can’t fight the same mounting apprehension he experiences when crossing into a dimension he’s never visited before.

“Would you like me to teach you?” he asks, inwardly cringing at how tentative he sounds despite his efforts to be casual.

Luckily, Sakura is too caught off-guard to notice. “You’ve never asked me that before.”

“I’ve never recognised the opportunity,” he admits. Too blinded by rage and revenge, it never occurred to him as a kid that the teammates he considered dead weight might improve faster if he helped them.

Sakura knows this too, and doesn’t argue the point. Instead, she says, “I’m not a fire type, though.”

“That shouldn’t stop the apprentice of Tsunade Senju.”

Sakura scoffs. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Hm.”

“All right, pretty boy, you’ve got it,” Sakura declares, making a show of rolling up her sleeves and facing the lake. “Stand back and watch me! Shannaro!” She flexes her fingers, preparing to form the requisite hand seals, and then glances back, a ghost of doubt on her face. “Um…any pointers?”

Sasuke’s mouth twitches at this.

In the end, he gives her a demonstration and the same advice his father offered.  She masters the technique faster than he did. Not on the first try, like Itachi, but within hours. He puts that down to her excellent chakra control and the fact that, as a jōnin, learning to master new techniques quickly is a prerequisite. There’s a huge difference between her abilities and those of a seven-year-old with self-esteem issues.

Thanks to her instant healing abilities, there’s no obvious signs of damage – her cheeks aren’t burned and her lips aren’t chapped from the flame. But the tips of her hair are singed a little and her skin is rosy from the heat.

After expelling the last fireball, Sakura coughs, smoke wafting briefly from mouth and nostrils, but when it dissipates, her eyes are dancing.

“How’s that?” she challenges, hands on her hips and chin jutted out.

Sasuke smirks. “As expected.”

“Oh, come on. That was amazing and you know it – mine might even be better than yours!”

“Don’t push it.”

She laughs at that.

“I think I burnt my tongue; my taste buds aren’t going to work properly for a week!” Her face becomes inquisitive. “What’s the occasion, though? Or did you really just want to avoid another gourmet dinner at Ichiraku’s with Naruto?”

As Sasuke has come to expect from her, Sakura provides him with an out. He’s not entirely sure how long she’s been doing that or whether it’s intentional, but he appreciates it all the same.

Even if today, he will not make use of it.

“That’s an extra benefit,” he allows, earning an amused, somewhat conspiratorial grin. He pauses again, momentarily at loss of how to say what he needs to say. Eyes trained on the surface of the lake, he steels himself and continues.  “This technique…in my family, it’s a right of passage.”

He lets that sink in.

“Oh, yeah. I think you mentioned that once,” she says thoughtfully. “Or Kakashi-sensei said it. It’s like a coming-of-age tradition, right?”

“Hm,” he affirms and, trying to lace his words with meaning, confides, “It’s only passed on by close family members.”

“Right. That’s why your father taught you. I think that’s a nice tradition.”

Sasuke winces inwardly because she clearly doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say. It’s not a failing on her part, either, but his own inability to properly articulate the point. The words are there, but for some reason, they die somewhere between throat and lips. Demons and malevolent gods he can take, but this five-foot-four woman with pink hair makes Sasuke nervous. And it’s not because she can crush his skull with her little finger, either.

“Until one can perform the jutsu properly, one cannot truly claim the name Uchiha,” he explains, hoping the inflexion of the words conveys his intended meaning.   

 But Sakura still doesn’t get it.

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a child,” she says lightly. She’s probably imagining him struggling to learn the technique, terrified of failure.

She wouldn’t be wrong, either.

The knots in Sasuke’s stomach get worse and, if she doesn’t realise soon, he’ll have to spell it out for her. He’s half-angry about that because she’s supposed to be smarter. She should just know what he’s trying to say, and save him from making an utter fool of himself.

“Not just a child,” he corrects, again elaborately casual. “You performed it perfectly.”

_Please…just…listen to what I’m trying to say._

Sakura’s breath catches in her throat.

The silence between them suddenly isn’t so companionable, but fraught with a tension like the entire world is holding it’s breath.

Sasuke doesn’t look directly at her as she parses his words, using that blinding intellect of hers to understand what he’s trying to ask, but he glimpses her face from the corner of his eye. This is how he watches her expression blossom with understanding.

_Success._

He turns to her then. “I have no right to ask anything of you,” he says plainly. “Not after everything.”

“Sasuke –”

“Sakura, let me…” he trails off, jaw working and his own voice catching as the words get lost again, but damn it, he has to get this out! “I don’t know if I have the capacity to be what you want – what you’ve hoped for. Or if I can give you everything that you deserve. And it’s possible I’ve waited too long.” He swallows. “But when I think of family – even at my lowest point, where I’d given up on the idea – you were the only one I could ever see myself with, the one I…”

Again, words fail him, and Sasuke wants to yell in frustration. He needs her to know because maybe the faster he gets it out, the better the odds will be. Sakura deserves so much better – always has – and could have anyone else. She _should_ have anyone else, but he’s still hoping against hope that she won’t _want_ anyone else –

“Say it.”

Sasuke is rather jarringly brought out of his rambling, insecure thoughts by a cracking whisper.

Sakura stares up at him, tears welling in her eyes – why is it him who always makes her cry! He expected her to be flustered or awkward, but instead, she looks the same as she does when bracing for a physical blow.

This confuses him. “What?”

“I need you to say it,” she tells him, barely above a whisper. “Just once. Say it and mean it.” Her fists clench. “I’ll never ask to hear it again if that’s what you want, but before I can say yes – to the future, to trying, to…to all of it – you have to say it.” She takes a shuddering breath. “If you can’t, then I…I…”

She trails off as if the idea is too hard for her to even enunciate, too painful to consider – for either of them.

Sasuke has never been good with words.

What he feels for Sakura, he doesn’t want to – can’t, really – put into words. There is no collection of syllables or sounds that are accurate enough to describe the girl who gave him her heart when they were children. The woman who waited for him for years; forgave him for trying to kill her, their best friend, and their entire village.

He has wandered the world, looking for redemption and it’s only since returning here that he’s realised he had it the whole time.

He wants to tell her all of that, but he doesn’t think she’ll understand. Not now, not yet – not while they are still getting used to being around one another. Maybe after a lifetime, if she’ll give him that, it will come easier – his words and her ability to trust in him.

But for now, she wants something so simple, something almost infantile, as if a set phrase is a guarantee – a safety net or a reward of some kind. He knows this, but struggles to give it to her, because it’s just so _insufficient._ And everything about him to date, when it relates to her, has been insufficient.

If he does this wrong, she’ll turn away; it’s why she’s giving him this ultimatum in the first place. In their time apart, she’s developed into a strong, independent individual with unapologetic self-respect and unmalleable resolve.

She knows what his hopes are, the second of his ultimate goals. And even though he doesn’t deserve it, he won’t lie and say it isn’t one of his motivations. But Sakura won’t become the vehicle for his happiness unless she’s sure she’ll benefit from it as well. It’s only fair and Sasuke admires her all the more for it, but right now, it’s making him want to turn tail and run.

“Sakura…”

He really, really wishes he was better at this.

_Just do it already, you ass._

And why isn’t it surprising that, in this moment where the rest of his life might change for better or worse, Sasuke can clearly hear the voice of his idiot best friend telling him what to do? It almost makes him want to check to make sure the fool isn’t lurking somewhere nearby.

Regardless of it’s source, the advice is right. No more good can come of waiting.

Sasuke bends down so that his forehead presses against Sakura’s, bringing them eye to eye. She tenses up and her pale cheeks flush with colour, her lips parting in surprise. If this position prevents Sakura from seeing the colour rising on his own face and neck or noticing that his hand is shaking as it gently takes hers, all the better.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” he says in a low voice, “but I want to spend it with you.”

Her lower lip trembles at this.

“Because…because you love me?” Sakura prompts, the question a whisper but with a mettle to it, a firm reminder that she will not let him off easy in this moment.

Sasuke exhales through his nose in defeat, eyes closed in affectionate resignation.

“Hm. Because I love you.”

When he opens his eyes, Sakura’s are (if possible) wider than he has ever seen. The utter shock etched into every other feature is simultaneously amusing and worrisome; he wonders dimly if against all odds, this is finally what breaks her.  

Putting some distance between their faces, he gently taps two fingers beneath the rhombus-shaped seal on her forehead – partially to make sure she’s still cognizant, but also to drive the message home. Sakura has never completely understood the gesture before in the handful of instances he’s demonstrated it, but now understanding flickers into place.

That this is not just today and not only because she asked him, but that he has wanted this for so much longer.

Glassy green eyes are now overflowing with tears, the droplets winding down the curves of her cheeks and quivering jaw. Mild panic sets in – why is she upset? Shouldn’t she be happy?

“Sakura, why are you cry – _mmph!”_

Fingers fist in his shirt and a pair of soft lips are planted very firmly against his own.

Sasuke stands frozen for several seconds. Dimly, he supposes he should’ve expected this, because isn’t this what’s meant to happen when two people acknowledge feelings for one another? Essentially, he just asked Sakura to spend the rest of her life with him, so it shouldn’t come as a shock that there would be a physical confirmation of this. Only, he didn’t quite expect it to happen so fast. Well, fast, he thinks, is relative. They have been building up to this since childhood, but he’s still not sure –

“You’re supposed to kiss me back,” Sakura mumbles against his mouth. If he wasn’t blushing before, the embarrassment hits fully now. Still, the permission takes at least some of his discomfiture away.

Slow and tentative, Sasuke returns the kiss.

It’s clumsy and uncertain because he’s never done this before, but she makes a small, approving noise at the back of her throat and he guesses he’s doing something right.

Sakura tastes like smoke from the _Katon_ and something sweet he doesn’t have a name for. He suspects he could spend the rest of his life trying to figure it out without success, but that idea doesn’t bother him at all.

She fits her mouth over his, softly pulling his bottom lip between hers, and Sasuke’s senses fade out. Something like relief passes over him, as if a weight has been pulled from his very soul. The last, tightly coiled vestiges of doubt and anxiety that have gathered in him for years are now gone, and the only thing in the world is her.

That in itself is mildly terrifying, but in a good way.

Achingly slowly, Sakura pulls away from him, reaching up to brush his hair away from his left eye. Her fingers stay in place, keeping the strands from falling back while her thumb traces a gentle arc from eyebrow to temple.

He leans into the touch and she grins at him.

“Well?” she prompts. “What do you think?”

“…hm?” It should concern Sasuke that his brain takes a second or two to catch up.

“Better than Naruto, right?” she wants to know.

The post-kiss haze vanishes.  

Sasuke sputters out a wordless response because that’s _not_ how these things are supposed to go. His people skills might be rusty, but he’s pretty sure it’s far from normal to remind the man who just confessed his feelings about his (very unwilling) first (and second) kiss with their mutual best friend.

Sakura is laughing – at him or at the situation, he doesn’t know. He should be annoyed about this – and if she ever tells anyone about this he will be – but the tears in her eyes are from mirth, not pain or sadness and, for once, he doesn’t regret putting them there.

“Yes, by the way,” she tells him happily, leaning into his chest. “Yes to all of it.”

終わり

**Author's Note:**

> _I hope you enjoyed the story! As part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest tumblr page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated! (You know, assuming their blog is actually working, which it hasn't been all day...grumble grumble!_   
>  _Interesting Note: The title comes from classic Japanese marriage proposals, where a man will ask a woman to make him miso soup every day, ie, cook for him everyday, which would not happen unless they were married. The more you know!_   
>  __  
>  **クリ**   
> 


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